Please Don't Stop the Music
by Full Shadow Alchemist
Summary: **Manipulashipping** Whilst attending a friend's party for midterms, Anzu sees an unlikely face in an unlikely fashion.


**  
Title:**Please Don't Stop the Music**  
Author: **Full Shadow Alchemist**  
Pairing: **Marik Ishtar X Anzu Mazaki**  
Fandom: **Yu-Gi-Oh!**  
Rating: **K+**  
A/N: **Read the third to last paragraph and hopefully the title will make sense. Also, I love you spell check. Don't think I don't cause I do.

**Please Don't Stop the Music**

A steady but powerful beat, flashing lights, insufferable heat, sweat, desperate pants of air, aching limbs; this is what it was all about. She lived for these times, when all she knew was dancing and laughing and the energy pulsing through her. For a few hours every week that was all that existed. Even the suffocation was perfect. The exhaustion was part of the bill, the beautiful bill, the wonderful wonderful bill that she wanted to stay the same each time, all the time.

At 19, college student Anzu Mazaki was in terrific form. She had won a scholarship to a prestigious dance academy in New York, just as she had wanted. Being the only Japanese in her class, it was awkward for the first few weeks. Somehow she became friends with the aggressive redhead Jasmine Curtis. The class was demanding and the teachers strict, but really that was perfect.

Sometimes though, a midnight rave is needed to keep her spirits up.

Her escape, her passion, all rolled into one. It was a gift, it was divine, it was _perfection. _

Tonight, she wore a red and black tank top, beige short shorts and stylish yet practical high heels that went up to her knees. There was only one destination in mind as she set out, not knowing how the night would turn out but not caring. This was her element, her world, and nothing could ruin it.

A student in her class, Rachel, was having a mid-terms party at her large estate with everyone invited. Anzu, never one to let opportunities pass by, instantly said she would come and come she would! This party would be a relief, as for the next few weeks she will have no time for breaks. Right now the class was taking a break from actually dancing to work on the history of dance. They had to choose a form of dancing and study its origins with great detail to be presented in an essay afterwards.

Anzu hadn't started hers yet. Truth be told, she didn't even know which form of dance to write about yet.

"Whoa…" she had to do a double take when she got to Rachel's house. She knew that the girl was rich, but this was ridiculous! This put even Pegasus to shame! The mansion was very ornate, with an eighteenth-century charm unusual in homes nowadays. It had three stories and stretched a huge distance both ways. A swan fountain tickled water at the front and dozens of rows of flowers sat proudly in the lawn. Not what she expected at all.

Anzu tentatively rang the doorbell. She felt small and pathetic now. She felt that she should leave right now and go buy a Victorian era ballroom dress. That would be more suitable for the house, right? Maybe she had heard wrong, and the party was medieval themed. Yes, that would make sense, wouldn't it? Just as she made to leave the door swung open.

"Anzu! You made it!" The dark Rachel greeted the brunette with a wide grin. She relaxed. Rachel was wearing casual sweatpants and a tee shirt. It was safe to say she would be fine in her street clothes.

The inside of the house was unlike the outside in every way possible. Everything was new, shiny and colourful. The entire first floor was fashioned solely for party purposes, granted they weren't allowed upstairs. But really, this was more than enough.

"Go check out the backyard," Rachel insisted. "A dance-off is going to start soon, and we all know how much you love those." Anzu was pushed gently towards the back of the house and she blushed. These people really made it their business to know everything about the foreign students, didn't they? She blinked when she realized Rachel wasn't following her to the backyard. She turned around only to watch the other girl run off.

"Where are you going, Rachel?" she called out. Rachel turned and jogged backwards as she breathlessly announced:

"The bathroom!" And she was gone.

Okay then. Dance-off!

Music blasted from the largest surround sound system Anzu had ever seen. Tables and chairs had been set up so the dancers could rest (though no one was there now), and food and drinks were laid out nicely (though without a doubt it would be on the ground by the night's end) and of course, a DJ was spinning records in his DJ way. Naturally, what else was there to do but join the dancing?

A bouncy hip-hop song began, and the dance-off was on.

Anzu watched the first few rounds before she couldn't stand the stillness of not moving. She creamed Jake Blanney, floored Teddy Novice, and beat Hannah Snow. This was her element, her world, and nothing could ruin it.

When the music came to an abrupt end, all eyes went to the DJ and an arrogant Jasmine Curtis holding a microphone. Anzu knew that gleam in her eyes and it wasn't a good thing. "Hiya, peeps!" Her trademark opening. "We have a one-time visitor from Egypt, apparently Rachel's cousin, so let's all make sure she has a good time tonight. Meet…Marika Mishtar!" A petite blond peeked around the redhead and Anzu did a double take.

What the….

'Marika Mishtar' wore baggy jeans, a purple short shirt and sneakers for clothes. 'She' wore excessive mascara and eye shadow, lip gloss glistened in the light and huge breasts were practically falling out of 'her' shirt. 'She' grinned nervously and waggled 'her' fingers at the crowd, a forced giggle falling out of 'her' lips.

Marik Ishtar, you are a dead man…!

Jasmine dragged him down into the crowd where they disappeared. Anzu on a hunt for blood wasn't going to let him go.

Finally, after half an hour of searching, she found him standing by the fruit punch (probably spiked) looking out of place and wanting to be elsewhere. Best of all, he was alone. She approached dead on, red in the face from exertion and practically puffing smoke out of her nose and ears. He sees her but only tenses in horror at her fast approach. The wild look in her eyes must have terrified him. Excellent! Let him know fear, let him know shame! Shame for coming to try and humiliate…

her…

Poor thing was hyperventilating from fright. Guilt set in, making the brunette deflate as air rushed out her mouth. After swallowing a whole bunch of saliva, she asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry!" He squeaked. Now she felt really bad. To pretend being a girl, he needed to sound like one. Really must hurt his manly pride. "I had no idea you were going to be here! If I had known you were going to be here, I wouldn't have come." Ouch. Now she felt even worse.

"It's fine," she insisted. "Really! It's okay! I just want to know, why are you here?"

"Rachel invited her 'long lost cousins' to come visit," he hung his head.

"So Rachel is your cousin!"

"What? You couldn't tell?"

"How could I?"

"So you couldn't tell that I, Marik Ishtar, is the distant cousin of Rachel Ishtar, along with my sister Ishizu Ishtar and brother –"

"All right, I get it! I didn't know Rachel's last name!"

"I could have never guessed." Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

"Who's the inquirer here? Me! Now why are you dressed like-"

"Shh!" Here he switched to Japanese. "Curtis Jasmine-san was the first to arrive so she got to meet me. She asked if I've ever tried cross-dressing and practically shoved me into this…thing."

"Jasmine did? Figures. Well, change out of that and come dance." She rolled her eyes.

"Change?! If I do, people'll ask who I am, and when I tell them, what do you think will happen?"

"Fine, fine! Come dance!" When in doubt, dance. That was Anzu's philosophy. She practically dragged him towards the dance area.

"Demanding, aren't you?" Marik threw back his head and laughed. She smiled, her cheeks pink. His laugh sounded like music. And like music, she wanted it to never end.

This was her element, her world, and nothing could ruin it.

Only make it better.


End file.
